The Boy I Loved
by Unipugs at 221b
Summary: What was James Moriarty like when he was young? Who was behind the trigger in the pool scene? And most importantly, could the consulting criminal ever love? Find out more about the man behind the suit and swagger. [update coming soon, I promise!]
1. Chapter 1

The Boy I loved

Chapter 1: When we were young

 **A/N: I have decided to make this into an actual fic. If you have already read this in** _ **Holidays with**_ _ **Sherlock,**_ **then skip to the next chapter.**

 _James Moriarty._ That's what it said on his school book. _James Moriarty._ Nothing More. No bored doodles or tattered edges like on most people's. Just his name. Nobody knew much about him, except he's Irish. He never talked other than to ask a question and even then, he talked in barely a whisper. But that _voice._ He had the strangest, silky Irish voice which was one of the reasons I was so happy to be placed next to him in class. He was handsome, in an odd, perplexing way too. He had near-black, silky hair and beautiful eyes. Oh god, them eyes. They were wide puppy dog eyes, black bean brown. He was so unusual, so mysterious. I was curious, that was all. That's what I told myself anyway.

It was Valentine's soon. I had to do something for him or he'll never notice me. I made a beautiful card with a silk heart on it. I tried to keep it classy and not too sugary sweet. I got to school early and took it out of my bag. I laid it down on his desk before calmly fast-walking out. I was creeping down the corridor when I heard quiet footsteps. I fled into the toilets nearby. I'm not stalking him or anything, I just want to see his reaction. That was what I promised myself. I slinked to the doorway and stuck my head out. I could just see him. He reached into his bag and -. No, no, no. I backed away, my face flushing red, my eyes brimming with tears. No. no, no, no, no, no. I'm such an idiot. Why would I ever think _he_ would like _me_. I saw him take out a card and place it on – Jessica's desk. Jessica. Yes _her_. You know, just the most popular and catty girl in the school. That Jessica.

It was the next day, and just a little bit after Jessica had given me the final proof that she was the cruellest, soul-draining being to ever exist. I felt so bad for poor, poor James. She had just pulled the nastiest prank ever.

On Valentine's she opened her regular stack of her admirers' corny love notes. But at the bottom there was one extra card. It was beautiful, diamanté studded card, a far cry from the unoriginal red rose and heart designs. Inside, a carefully printed message spoke in silver ink:

 _To Jessica, my beloved,_

 _I love you like the birds love the call of spring,_

 _I need you like the birch needs the sun and rain,_

 _Be mine o Jessica._

 _The dearest of love,_

 _James Moriarty_

Jessica looked up and met James' eyes. She walked up to him and declared, "Oh James. How romantic! I love you too!" Then she bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. I watched in despair as everyone crowds round, sending my handmade heart, as well as my real one, fluttering to the ground.

For the first day, he was treated like a king. When his new gang of mates passed a poster for the junior dance everyone declared he needed to enter the King and Queen vote with Jessica. He blushed before stating that alright, he'll give it a shot. Everyone cheered and they moved on. I peeked at the poster. Oh my god! It was tomorrow! Time had passed so quickly it was the junior dance on February 15th! It would start at 8pm, the voting would take place from 9 to 9:30 and it would end at 11. I already had an outfit and me and my two best friends decided to stick together so I didn't need a date. At least I was sorted!

It was at the dance that they turned. They were still awfully nice to him the entire dance but at the end the crowning took place. Brendon had offered to do the ceremony and told everyone the obvious. The winners were James Moriarty and Jessica Green. Now known as a couple to their friends as Jamica. Jessica gladly accepted her crown and stepped aside, smirking. For Brendon placed a thorn crown on James' head and immediately after someone over the stage dropped a bucket of rotten food from the canteen over him. He gasped in shock and everyone burst out laughing. Phone videos were recorded and everyone could see. I stared in horror at what they had done. Brendon began to talk," You didn't really think you could be one of us, did you? You're a creep James!" As he was walking off, eyes streaming, he slipped, landing flat in the slime. "Stay down there in the dirt, where you belong!" Jessica cackled. James stalked off the stage. I ran after him.

"James? James! I'm so sorry. I wasn't in on it, I swear! I even gave you a card! James?"

"Go away," he turned to face me, with a dangerously psychotic look in his eyes, "GO AWAY! Please, before I do something I'll regret." I backed away, shaken.

The next morning I heard a yell. Suddenly everyone crowded the alleyway beside the bike shed. For there was the scariest, most hard to forget image any of us would ever see. Two bodies, barely identifiable as Jessica Green and Brendon Cooke. And James, James Moriarty, holding a bread knife and _smiling_. He slowly turned to face us looking up with those crazed black bean eyes.

"James…" Matt, Brendon's best friend, whispered, "Please tell me this is a joke. A sick joke."

He never stopped grinning, even when he was talking. "Not James anymore," he shook his head slowly, "Just… Moriarty… Or Jim… Yeah, Jim Moriarty…"

I gaped in shock. "Jim…" That was all I needed to say. His eyes filled and he knew he had disappointed me.

"I-I'm sorry…" he whimpered, "I've failed you, haven't I?"

I wanted to say no, that it was okay, it was all good. But shock and horror took me over and I just said, "Yes… Yes you did."

That was the last time I ever spoke to, or saw, James Moriarty.

 **A/N: What you think I should call her? Please comment ideas!**


	2. Chapter 2

The Boy I Loved

Chapter 2: Many years later

 **A/N: I based this off a prompt I found on Pinterest by Holloway's Hideaway –** _ **She opened the door to hundreds of roses. She knew they were from him; he had found her.**_ **I really hope you enjoy!**

I had finally made a name for myself. I was a professional writer, mainly murder mysteries and crimes really. I guess I just couldn't really let go of James. And what he had done. After a fairly fun launching event, a special murder mystery evening with limited attendance, I fumbled with my keys and unlocked the door. And there, all piled up against the door, were hundreds of roses. I gasped, as I knew this wasn't just some creepy fan. Hands shaking, I opened the kitchen door slowly. Just as I had suspected, he was sitting at the table, calmly cutting an apple. He still was oddly handsome, just like before. Suddenly I saw a young boy, dark haired with black bean eyes. Quiet and studious. I shook my head. Flashbacks.

"Aren't apples just like people?" he remarked, "studies show if you say cruel things to an apple, it'll rot. Funny how that works with people too."

I stared. "James…"

"Yeah. Nice to see you again. How was it the last time we saw each other? Apples can't unrot, Sarah."

"Are you telling me you're still…"

"A psychopath? Yeah, pretty much. But I need a favour."

I cleared my throat and composed myself. "Why now? It's not fair James. I've got on with my life. I tried to forget you. Why can't you leave me alone? Why James? I loved you."

"You didn't do a good job of forgetting at first did you? You were a spy. You killed people, Sarah. You're just as bad as me. Except you worked legally. Me, not so much. Does the name Mycroft ring a bell? Mycroft Holmes?"

"Holmes? Yes, he was my boss."

"Anyway, better get to the point. I need help. I like playing games, you see. I found out about this man. Sherlock Holmes. Yes, he's Mycroft's brother. I'd like to mess with him, shake him up a bit. You've worked with snipers, you're a spy. You've even killed people. Help me. All you need to do is sit behind the glass with my best man, Sebastian Moran, and shoot them if they try anything. Okay?"

"No, not okay. That's inhuman! You can't just mess with people like that!"

"Watch me. I can make everyone turn, Sarah. I can burn your whole pretty little world. And I will. Unless?"

"Unless I agree to shoot my ex-boss's brother."

"And his little friend. I think you're in charge of him actually. He's less likely to do anything. Not when I've rigged him with explosives anyway," he gave a little smile as he said that.

"You're insane!"

"Oh, come on. You love me really. So are you in?"

I thought for a second. It seemed I only had one choice. "Yes."

"I knew you missed me!" I guess I did, really. In an odd, twisted way.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Kidnapping John Watson

 **A/N: Ugh, so sorry I haven't updated in like, forever. I've been super busy. So, this is a chapter about when Moriarty kidnapped John before the pool scene. That will come next. This has lots of speech in it, sorry. Please enjoy and review!**

My hands were shaking, and it had nothing to do with the van's tired bumps. I had to stop that. James had informed me I needed a steady hand, since the guns had laser aims and nothing was less intimidating than a shaky aim. We were on our way to pick up John, Sherlock's 'little friend'. The next thing I knew an unconscious man was lying before me.

"See that jacket?" the unmistakeable Dublin drawl called out to me.

"Yeah," I gulped. It was a big, oversized padded coat.

"Put it on him."

I picked up the jacket. It was surprisingly heavy. I unzipped it. So there was the explosives. I shuddered as I dressed the poor, unsuspecting man in it and carefully zipped it up.

"Done?" he asked again.

"Yep, all kitted up."

"Not yet. There is small compartment on the left. The smallest one."

"Right."

"Open it. Inside there are three earpieces and a microphone. Put one of the earpieces on him. The clear one."

I did as he said.

"He should wake up any minute now."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Sarah."

"Yes?"

"Put the sunglasses and hat from the fourth biggest compartment on the left please. Unless you want him to blab to the press about this."

I took his advice although I still thought he might recognise me. A few minutes later the man woke up.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Go on, tell old Johnny Boy," he ordered. His voice had become scarily light-hearted which I presumed was to further intimidate his victims.

"Um, first I've been forced to do this by him. You are about to be taken to where your friend will meet you. That's all I know I'm afraid. But who are you?" I stammered.

"Me? I'm just John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Wait? What am I wearing?" He unzipped the coat to reveal the bomb kit and just stared in horror.

"I'm sorry," I admitted.

"Well, your boyfriend's coming to pick you up," James chipped in.

"How many… I'm not gay. Okay?" John huffed.

"I'm pretty sure some light teasing is the least of your worries," I reminded him.

"Oh yeah, I nearly forgot I'm set to explode! Thanks for reminding me!" John grumbled sarcastically, before groaning, "oh god, what is happening."

A while passed by in silence before the van grinded to a halt.

"We're here!" James sing-songed, "It's Showtime! Remember the microphone and earpieces please. Oh yeah, Johnny Boy, you have to repeat everything I say through your earpiece, okay?"

"Right, whatever."

"Or you will be shot."

"Okay. As if this isn't mental enough already."

"Let's go then!" he instructed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: A talk with Seb

 **A/N: This is kinda short because I was going to make this into one thing with the next one but that would be too long. If you get what I mean. I'm sorry these keep getting shorter and shorter. I'm gonna try to update more often but I'll probably fail and barely update.**

We were in a dark, empty swimming pool. James led me up to where I would shoot from. Waiting there was a blonde-haired man.

"Boss, you're here," he called.

"Seb, this is Sarah. She'll be John's. I know I can trust your aim with Sherlock. She's got earpieces for you both. You might need to refresh her a bit." After that he left with the microphone.

"We better test these out," he told me, pointing to the earpieces. We clipped them on to hear Jim talking.

"Okay, your friend will be coming soon," he looked up at us, "can you guys up there hear me?" We nodded down at him. He nodded back and told us we had to wait until John walked out.

"Sooo. Who are you?" I asked, awkwardly trying to make conversation.

"Moran, Sebastian Moran. But call me Seb," he instructed, "Why are you here? Boss could have chosen any famous assassin."

"I, um, knew him at school."

"Really? What was he like?"

"Right, if tell you how James was when he was young then you tell me what he's like now."

"James? You must be special."

"Why?"

"Anyone who calls him James usually gets murdered personally by him. No joke." I stared in

disbelief.

"Wow."

"Yeah. So, anyway, tell me what he was like."

I gave him a brief explanation, "I used to have this massive crush on him. He was attractive and quiet. So one valentine's day I slipped a card on his desk only to find he had given one to the most popular girl in the school. The next day they pulled an awful prank on him and the day after that he murdered the two main people involved. That was his first murder."

"Jesus."

"What does he do now?"

"He has the biggest criminal network in existence. He invented the job, Consulting Criminal. That man there is basically his good counterpart, Consulting Detective. Ironic, huh?" before I could respond he pointed to the pool, "hey, look! John's out! Get ready for the signal."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The day I nearly lost my life

 **A/N: This is carrying on from the last chapter. Hope you enjoy and review. That's all I really have to say so yeah. Enjoy!**

We watched on as a tall, curly-haired man stared at John.

"So, that's Sherlock I guess," I commented.

"Yep."

We observed as it played out. I soon discovered a lot about James, such as he pretended to be gay, he was planning on killing Sherlock and he had killed a boy called Carl Powers in this very pool. He said that was his first murder so I guess he didn't like to talk about what really turned him psycho.

He would whisper instructions through the mic and we would follow. After a while John wrestled James and Seb had to take over him. As I got the sign I pointed my sniper directly at Sherlock's head. We listened and aimed for a while before James left. Then a voice hissed into our earpieces,

"Dammit. Wrong Door. I'm coming back in, okay?" me and Seb both sniggered, "Are you two laughing at me?"

We smartened up and pointed our lasers back at the two. I smirked as I saw the confused horror creep into their faces.

"You're enjoying this." Seb accused.

"No I'm not, it's awful! Anyway, if I was, so what? You hardly hate it."

"Yes, but it's my job. You're volunteering."

"I'm held here against my will. Do you know who I am?"

"Duh! That writer lady. The one who writes the crime novels. Funny, Jim never talks about you."

Hearing him being called Jim gave me a flashback of before, him kneeling, that twisted, crazy smile on his face as he told us to address him as that particular nickname. It felt wrong, the word felt dry and bitter in my mouth. It wasn't the name of the boy I loved. It was the name of the man he had turned into, and I wasn't sure how I felt about him. He was dangerous, sexy and insane. Sexy? _Shut up, brain!_ This man was prepared to kill anyone, just for a laugh. It's a game, that's all. Just a game. Doesn't matter who it effects, oh no. It's all just for fun, nothing else. He doesn't give a toss about me, or anyone. He is in no way, shape or form _sexy._

Oh, but he was. And however hard I try I couldn't stop thinking about it. His big, round eyes. His insane, scary smile, with the faintest trace of hair on his face. His smoothed back, gelled jet-black hair. And don't get me started on his body. His expensive suits that fit seamlessly with his outline. My mind continuously starts to wander off track. I wonder what it's like, _underneath._ Nope. Nada, certainly not. Not thinking about that. He is a heartless criminal, Sarah. Not the ideal boyfriend. I bring myself back to what was happening and gasp, jolting my aim and causing Seb to sigh a little louder than necessary. Sherlock was aiming a gun at the explosives which were now lying in a heap on the floor. I was about to die.


End file.
